Dear Dad

Today marks two years since you left us. To say it has been difficult would be an understatement. I expected as time passed, the grief to get easier but two years in I can see that is not the way this works. I still think about you everyday and there are a lot of moments when I just break down. Losing someone so close is a devastating experience and often times it does not feel fair. Nothing or no one can justify the loss and we just kind of have to keep moving. Life Goes On. 

I was scrolling through photos on my phone to see if I could find one of you and I to post along with this. At first it made me sad to realize that I don’t have many recent pictures of you and then I realized why. As I scrolled through my memories over the last decade or so, there was a little piece of you in every photo. From the stories you told me about whatever new location I found myself in, the words of praise or pride you had in big moments in my life or the or just simply the conversations we had around daily happenings, there are memories of you everywhere. 

I am so grateful to be able to have these memories but it also makes the grief process so much tougher. 

For a number of years, we spoke almost daily. You were the first person I called when I had news, had a question or simply just wanted to chat. We would call each other when driving ‘just because’. We would call each other to check in if it had been a couple of days. Even though separated by distance, we still shared so much of our lives together.

It has been shocking to me the activities that have become emotionally difficult since you’ve been gone. Sometimes, I struggle with driving long distances. You loved to drive, so much so I questioned many times whether I’d make it out alive. I have a lot of memories of either being in cars with you or sharing stories over the phone while we were driving. At first it was just being in my car that was difficult. Now, it is mostly while I am driving longer distances. Through the silence and serenity of driving, which I ultimately enjoy, I find myself thinking of you a lot and the grief sets in. 

Travelling, something that was for so long a key part of my life, has become tougher. Through all of my travels, while not physically there, you were right there beside me on every trip. You were always so interested in where I was going, what I was doing and who I was seeing. When I travel now, it makes me sad to know that you will not be there to share my stories with or to educate me on the history of somewhere I am going or have just been. You loved travelling and while you did your fair share of it, I know it wasn’t enough for you. I miss your curiosity about the world.

At first, the absence of phone calls felt like you were on a long vacation. I remember about three months later feeling like it was about time you came home because I missed you and just wanted to hear your voice again. Since then it has been hard to let go of the instinct to call you when something happens in my life. I still often find myself thinking “what would Dad say” or “Dad would love this”. It still feels very surreal to me that you are gone. I am not sure that will ever disappear. 

You were taken way too early and there is still so much of my life left that I want to be able to share with you. Some days it makes me mad, but mostly I’m just sad. There is, and I am guessing forever will be, a hole in my heart with the absence of you. The irony is that while this hole is so big, you are still so ingrained in everything I do.

I miss you. More than words will ever be able to say. I miss your sense of humour, your wit, your love for useless knowledge and your generosity. You had an energy for life that not many did. You lived first and asked questions later. You were fearless and brave. You were an amazing man and I am so proud to call you Dad.

I have been quite silent about your passing for the last two years as I am not comfortable sharing the pain and sorrow of my grief online. But as you were a man of many words and one of my most avid blog followers (there are only 4 of them), I thought this would be an appropriate place to leave you a note. I don’t know where you are or what you are doing, but I am certain you are still having a good time!